


Either Ford's Having a Nightmare, or Bill Cipher Reincarnated as a Human and Is Astral Projecting into Ford's Dreams to Yell at Him; We're Not Sure Which

by ckret2



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Angst, Character Study, Dubious Morality, Gen, Human Bill Cipher, Monologue, Mortality, No Plot/Plotless, POV First Person, Post-Canon, Resurrection, Unreliable Narrator, technically Stanford Pines is only there implicitly while Bill yells at him, what's the tag for "body horror but it's just an alien horrified to be a normal human"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24171334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ckret2/pseuds/ckret2
Summary: You have murdered me! You've made me one of YOU! Raw leather stretched over calcium branches and meat spaghetti! I'm going to DIE! I can already feel my expiration date ticking closer!I offered to let you join me. Even before I knew you had anything left to offer me. It was a sincere offer, too. Sure, I used you, abused you, manipulated you and bullied you—but oh, wouldn't it have been worth all that to be made infinite? Isn't that the point of all your research into the long forgotten and the as yet unknown? Your desperate bifurcated digs down the diverging tunnels of science and magic searching for the point where they collide back into each other with a wet splat? All your notes in those books that you hope will outlast your pathetically short existence? Haven't you felt it—that crawling, clawing desperation for immortality?!I know you have. I know you still do. Immortality is the only thing that matters to you.That's what you took from me.———An unhappily reborn Bill yells at Ford.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	Either Ford's Having a Nightmare, or Bill Cipher Reincarnated as a Human and Is Astral Projecting into Ford's Dreams to Yell at Him; We're Not Sure Which

**Author's Note:**

> Watched Gravity Falls up to the series finale; said "I'll watch the big ending later"; forgot about it for four years; finally watched it a couple weeks ago; read the whole Axolotl theory about Bill Cipher being reborn; went "what if he gets reborn as a human but remembers his last life and gets stuck with the Pines and has to have a whole entire redemption arc??"; immediately sat down and wrote out what he'd yell at Ford the first time he saw him.
> 
> That's all the context I've got for this fic. It's just a dramatic monologue of Bill yelling/grieving his lost demigodhood/triangleness for 800 words.

You have murdered me! That's what you've done, do you know that? You've made me one of YOU! Raw leather stretched over calcium branches and meat spaghetti! I'm going to DIE! I can already feel my expiration date ticking closer! And I can't run from it. This is the end. This is going to be the end of me and it's YOUR FAULT!

Do you think ANYTHING I did to you or you stupid family comes even CLOSE to what you've done to me?! What do any of your inevitable ends matter—none of you mattered in the first place! You're all finite, short, temporary! Your lives are one-day carnivals set up on empty lots in liminal spaces that manifest fully formed at midnight and vanish the next night at hour twenty-three minute fifty-nine second fifty-nine point nine nine nine ad infinitum!

Nothing that isn't eternal matters, do you understand that?! YOU never mattered! On a long enough timeline, ALL OF YOU round down to zero! You never had anything of any importance—there was nothing I could take from you! Nothing!

But not I! Not I! I was eternal. I was EVERYTHING. I was infinite and indestructible!

Or at least I used to be!

But you took that from me. You ended something perfect. Oh, DON'T even think of arguing with me—I'm not claiming to be a perfect person, HA, can you imagine, defining me by personhood? By my PERSONALITY? As if there really are such things as "personalities"! But my state of existence was perfect. I was a flawless object. Never-ending. The only kind of thing that matters. That's what you ended. And on some level, some deep deep level, I know that in the basements of your subatomic particles there's guilt festering over what you've done. Because you DO know what you've done. Maybe the others don't understand—but I know that you do. You're one of the only ones that can possibly understand.

I offered to let you join me. Even before I knew you had anything left to offer me. It was a sincere offer, too. Sure, I used you, abused you, manipulated you and bullied you—but oh, wouldn't it have been worth all that to be made infinite? You know it would have. I know you know it would have. Isn't that the point of all your research into the long forgotten and the as yet unknown? Your desperate bifurcated digs down the diverging tunnels of science and magic searching for the point where they collide back into each other with a wet splat? Your notes, notes, notes—endless, TRIVIAL notes—the tacky faux gold paper pasted onto those books that you hope will outlast your pathetically short existence? Haven't you felt it—that crawling, clawing desperation for immortality?!

I know you have. I know you still do. Immortality is the only thing that matters to you—all of you, your species, the entire taxonomic tree of your planet—all you worthless, overgrown amoebae. That's why you leave behind so many words. That's why you build statues. That's why you struggle so mightily to discover something new—oh, forget the lies you tell yourself, you don't really care about the discovery or the knowledge—you only want to pass it on to the rest of your kind! If they think that what you figured out is important enough to remember, then maybe they'll remember YOU. That's all it's about. That's all it's ever been about.

That's why you little mammals mate and multiply like you do—that's all your family is, that family you're so driven to fight for. Your brain is a big ol' Rube Goldberg machine full of chemicals formulated to kick out the irresistible desire to protect your younger relatives because preserving the decaying dwindling evidence of your corporeal form's blueprints as contained within the fragile trillions of shreds of DNA in their bodies is the closest your lizard brains know how to get to saving your souls. You're desperate to live forever but all you know how to do is make rapidly-fading copies, grainy distorted echoes of yourself that fade to illegibility three or four generations down!

Don't you see? In the end, immortality is the only thing that matters to your kind. The endless propagation of yourself. You want to be something unaging and unchanging floating endlessly amongst the stars, too. You wanted to reach out to my dimension as much as I wanted to reach out to yours. We're the same.

Except you CAN'T float unchanging between the stars, because the stars change, too! Everything changes.

Except me.

I'm the only point of permanence that you, you LOWLY little thing, will ever meet! I'm the only glimpse of immortality that your planet's every living dying thing will EVER SEE! I'm the closest you'll ever get to feeding that hunger from which all your other hungers spawn!

And you have murdered me.

Do you understand now? Why what you've done to me is so much worse than anything I ever could have done to you?

To think I offered to make you like me.

**Author's Note:**

> Original post available on [tumblr](https://ckret2.tumblr.com/post/618043669606432768/either-fords-having-a-nightmare-or-bill-cipher). Comments/reblogs there are very welcome (as are comments here)!


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